Flying High
by First of the Geeks
Summary: Seeker Kevin Johnson gets signed for Puddlemere United, and not as a reserve Seeker either. And while she seems to be getting more popular by the second, all she wishes to do is find out just what exactly her relationship is with Keeper Oliver Wood. RR!
1. Chatper One

Disclaimer: Um, yea. I don't think that even J.K Rowling can come up with such a good idea for a fan fic, even though she does own the characters, except for Kevin, and well, everyone else you don't recognize. Ditto for places. 

And trust me, if I owned Oliver, I wouldn't need to write about him, if you know what I mean.

Summary: Blind Seeker Kevin Johnson gets signed for Puddlemere United, and not as a reserve Seeker either. And while she seems to be getting more popular by the second, all she wishes to do is find out just what exactly her relationship is with Keeper Oliver Wood. And get away from her obsessive ex, but that can wait. Oliver/OC

Author's Notes: I was just hit by this idea today, at, like three in the morning, so I don't know how good it'll be, since I've only had a while to think about it. But I must say, I rather like it....

Oh, yea, and I kind of lost my book on Quidditch Teams' names, and if anyone could help me with any of them, or could just send me some names and a little info, PLEASE email me at Reader202@aol.com. I would appreciate it so much! Thanxz! 

Peace,

Melly Mel-Mel ^_^

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"......And we all know who the keeper for this great team is, the one and only Oliver Wood!" Many loud cheers can be heard, most of which are obviously female voices. "Yes, yes ladies, the one and only. Now, as Chasers, we have Elizabeth Popper, James Andrews, and Katie Bell!" More cheers in the background, although nothing compares to that was directed to Oliver. "As Beaters, we have Nikolas Frome and Robin Rampout!" Still, more cheers are heard. "And, for Puddlemere United, reserve Seeker Alex Stiller!"

There is a pause as the announcer, Lee Jordan, waits for the cheering to die down again. It takes a good couple of minutes, but once the cheering is done, he rattles off the team members for the opposite team. There is another round of applause, even louder than that for Oliver Wood, when Lee says, obvious pride in his voice, "And the Seeker for the Irish National Quidditch Team, Harry Potter!"

There is more cheering as all of the players fly up into the sky, straddling their brooms and whizzing by. Lee Jordan rattles off the name of the referee, Skye Jones, right before he yells, "And, they're off! It's Popper, Bell, Andrews, Bell Popper, and then to Truste, Young, Troung, Bell....

It goes on like this for a while, until, "Now," Jordan says, getting into one of his well known, off-subject speeches. "There is a lot of conflict between these too teams on a personal level. Most of you know that Wood and Potter used to be on the Quidditch team at Hogwarts, both on the Gryffindor team. I was there when Wood taught Potter all that he knows....."

I shut off the Wireless, not really interested in Lee's commentary. Don't get me wrong; I love Quidditch just as much as the next person -more, actually-, but Lee's style of delivering the news wasn't your average way, mostly featuring rumors and random facts. It was just easier not listening to it and reading about it in the papers than actually listening to it on the Wireless. 

Sighing, I made my way slowly towards my bedroom, walking carefully around my dog, Butch, and any foreign objects that I missed while cleaning. When I first got out of Hogwarts, graduating with almost top marks and leaving with a great history as one of Gryffindor's most celebrated Seekers, I started looking for a good flat to live in in the wizarding community. It took me a long time, especially considering the special accommodations I needed to live, but I finally found one close to Godric's Hollow with a reasonable mortgage. 

When I got into my bedroom, my feet touched the plush carpet, and I turned the lights on only by habit. I felt the artificial warmth wash across my face as I made my way over to my tall wooden dresser, and I was once again reminded by how my life was dramatically different than most others. Waving away those not so old feelings, I pulled out a over sized, Muggle T-shirt and some flannel boxers, my everyday pajamas.

I stripped off my daily outfit, a knee length skirt and a T-shirt, noticing that the warmth was hotter right where I was; I was in front of the mirror. Had I not been blind, I knew exactly what I'd see; a short brunette with multiple colored eyes, staring unblinkingly at nothing, a light haze covering my pupils. I would see what everyone else saw, yet I would see it differently than everyone else. I would see, not the powerful woman with the stick strait hair that would give no volume, but rather the persevering blind woman that overcame many things to get to where she was.

But, I _was _blind, and probably would be for the rest of my life. I would most likely never see what my grown-up features looked like, never know if I still looked like that twelve year old girl that had lost her sight when her life was just picking up. I would never see again what most people took for granted, things that I myself had took for granted before I lost what almost everyone was born with.

I was, and still am, sick of that little girl, sick of her because she didn't know what a gift she had been blessed with. Because I wasn't always blind. No, I led a mostly normal life, save for the monstrous crush I had on my Potions Professor, up until a couple days after my twelfth birthday. 

When I look back now on that carefree girl that I was, I realize that I was blind then too. Not in the actual sense, but in the notion that I couldn't really understand the beauty in the simplest of things. That I couldn't see the obvious symptoms that all was not well in my life, or in that of most of the people that I knew. 

In a way, I hated her, yet in another, I envied her. I envied her for the obvious reasons, ditto for that of my idiotic hatred. But I was also sad for her. I was sad that she didn't have the ability to understand that her life was about to change for the better, upset that she didn't know the good that her freak accident was about to bestow upon her.

But, even if I did go back in time and tell that scared little girl that loosing her sight would strengthen her other senses, that loosing her ability to see would help her find what would eventually become her life, I doubt she would have believed me. She would have probably just shut the door in my face, or ask sarcastically what that _joy _was.

And if in the off chance that I could go back and have her ask me that, I would have told her, no hesitation at all, that Quidditch would help her find a life, happiness, and, eventually, love. 

But like I said, she would have slammed the door in my face, never looking back at the blind woman with so much insight. In fact, she would have laughed at me, _then_ slam the door in my face. Or perhaps she wouldn't have even answered the door, whichever door that was.

Even now these are painful thoughts that plague me, and I very frequently think them, but they are still there, and I need, somehow, to get them off of my chest. I don't know how I'm going to do it, perhaps I never will Maybe they will stay there, lingering beneath the surface, never showing it's face. 

I was thinking these thoughts as I put on clean underwear and my pajamas. I ran a brush through my thin hair, pulling it back in a loose pony-tail. I then proceeded in putting on some chap-stick, not wanting to wake up with chapped lips. When I was done with that, I walked out of my room, switching off my light as I did so.

I felt my "eyes", my Golden Retriever Butch, come patting behind me the minute I walked out, feeling his long hair against my legs. I had had Butch since he was a year old, ever since I was about fifteen, and he was my best friend and companion. He looked out for me when I couldn't look out for myself, and was always there to give me a hug whenever I had a bad day. 

He was still at my feet when I sat down on my comfortable couch, a book in brail resting on my lap. Next to Quidditch, reading was my life. I would do that whenever I had the chance, which would be whenever I was on vacation, or whenever the Quidditch season was over. Those two things and Butch were my life, and it didn't occur to me at the time to care.

I didn't even hear the man couch from my fireplace, as I was so deeply immersed in my book, and Butch was asleep, his head on my thigh, so he didn't hear it either. I don't know how many minutes my name was called, but as soon as I was about to turn the page in my novel, I heard, "Miss Johnson!" being called in a loud ringing voice.

It was Robert Till, my manager, and apparently, he was paying me a little visit. From what other people told me about his looks, Bob Till was a short balding man with a brown, handle-bar mustache. He was supposedly squat with a round tummy and a sunny disposition. I knew about the sunny disposition, but as far as the looks go, I had no idea. 

As soon as I heard my last name reverberating throughout my house, I jumped, causing Butch to wake up and bark once. From the fireplace, Bob laughed loudly, causing Butch to bark again. It took a while for Bob and Butch to regain themselves, but once they did, I could still hear the smile in Bob's voice.

"So, Kevin," Bob said, a smile in his voice. "How are you? Fine I take it?"

I shrugged, wondering what on Earth he was doing in my fireplace at this time in the night. I mean, don't get me wrong, Bob and I were friends and all that, but we tended to only talk to each other when it was regarding business. But it was 10:00, and there wasn't a lot of Quidditch business going on at that time, except for the Cup, but I wasn't taking part in that, so it didn't really concern me directly.

"Oh, you know. The usual," was my answer to his question. "And you? Everything all right with Aural and the kids?"

"Oh, of course, of course! Everything is perfectly dandy at home. Just wanted to say 'Hi' is all."

"Right," I replied in a disbelieving tone. "Sure."

It was then that Bob's voice took an offensive tone to it. While having a sunny disposition, he was also quick to the defensive. "What? What's so wrong with wanting to say 'Hi' to my favorite little Seeker?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," I hastened to assure him. "It's just that it's the night of the Quidditch Cup, and I would have thought that you would want to be there checking out the action and all that good stuff. You know," I said teasingly. "Maybe wanting to look for another Seeker to represent."

"I could be asking you about the Quidditch thing to, don't you know. Why aren't you at the match?"

"I don't know," I said with another shrug. "Just wasn't in the mood tonight. I had good seats," I added, thinking back to my top-box seats. "But I had a headache this morning and just wanted to lounge around the house."

"I see," Bob said in some far off, mysterious voice, like he knew something I didn't. "You probably just didn't want to see Dustin."

"That is not true!" I exclaimed, disgusted. Dustin Troung and I had just gotten over a nasty break up, but even so, that wasn't going to stop me from having a good time. I told Bob just as much.

"Ok, ok, I believe you," he said, and I rather thought that he would have put his hands up in front of his face had he been able to. "No need to shout."

"I wasn't shouting at you," I said. "I was merely snappish. There's a difference, you know." After hearing Bob's silence, I added, "Sorry, it's just this damn headache. Hasn't gone away all day." And it was true; I had had a headache practically all day, yet instead of getting better, it seemed to be getting progressively worse. 

"It's ok. I can see why you would want to stay home today if it was that bad; it's pretty loud over at the game." I heard another pleasant smile in his voice, but it wasn't there when I heard his mutter, "Wish I could have stayed home."

And so, of course, I practically _had _to ask him why he didn't stay home. The answer he gave wasn't what I had been expecting.

"I was working," he said simply, leaving room for me to ask what he was working on.

"Bob," I said exasperated. "It's the night of the Quidditch Cup, what work could you possibly be doing?" It was times like these that I wondered how on Earth his marriage stayed together all of these years.

"It wasn't for me," he said, the smile back in his voice. "Well, not really anyway. It's for you."

"Me?" I cried, incredulously. "What in Merlin's name could you have been working on about me on this night?"

"Oh, nothing really. Just talked to Puddlemere United's coach. They were wondering if you would mind a lot to switch teams from that one in the States to there. They want to meet with you."

"Me?" I cried again, this time pointing to my chest. "Why would they want to sign me as a reserve Seeker?"

"Well, for one thing, maybe it has something to do with the fact that you are the third ranking Seeker in the entire Quidditch standings, only behind Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter himself. And," he said, probably breaking his face with the smile that I heard in his voice. "They don't want you to be a reserve, they want you to be Seeker. Full time."

I leaned back into the couch, patting Butch's head as my mouth dropped even farther open. This was a lot to take in at the moment. I mean, here I was, the only professional blind Seeker, ever, getting asked to become a full time Seeker for one of the best teams out there. I was actually feeling faint at the idea. So faint, in fact, that Bob was beginning to get worried. 

"Kevin! Kevin!" He called, frantic. "Are you alright?"

Was I all right? Was I _all right_? Of course I was all right, dammit! Puddlemere wanted me to be their Seeker, and I was supposed to be anything but all right? Did Bob actually expect me to be upset or something?

Well, obviously, otherwise he wouldn't still be calling my name.

"Bob!" I yelled, cutting him off. "Will you shut up a moment?" He did, but not before he gave a little huff. After a could minutes of mental planning, I asked him, "Ok. So, they want to meet with me? When?"

Bob must have heard the excitement in my voice, for he said, "I knew you'd like this. They want to meet with you on Monday. You think you can make it?"

"Yes," I said, not bothering to make sure and see if I had any plans that day. "For that, I think I'll be able to make it."

"Good. I'll go tell Coach Anderson the good news." I was so happy, that I wasn't even aware that he hadn't left yet. "Oh, and Kevin?"

"Yea?" I asked, my head snapping up, startling my jumpy dog. "You need something?"

"No, not really. But I was wondering if you could turn on the Wireless for a minute. I just want to hear the standings."

"Yea," I said again, shrugging. I got up off of my comfy couch, Butch once again walking in back of me, his hair brushing against my legs. I got over to the wooden, four post table that held my Wireless Radio and flicked the 'ON' switch. It took not even a second for a report to come filtering over the airwaves.

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"And Puddlemere wins the Quidditch Cup!" Lee Jordan's voice yelled. "310-300 for Puddlemere! PUDDLEMERE WINS!

"Oh, and here comes the two teams! Oliver and Harry are shaking hands, and-"

I cut the Wireless off, letting out a little shriek. Puddlemere won! That was wonderful, stupendous, great......

"Well, I guess that means that you're happy?" Bob asked. I only nodded my head in response. "Good, because I doubt that Coach Anderson would be happy to hear that you were rooting for Ireland all along..." 

I swear I heard him wink before he left, leaving me with a big goofy smile on my face. But that smile quickly faded as I realized something. I was about to have a meeting with the winners of the Quidditch Cup, the greatest Quidditch players around.

How was I to compete with that?

I over slowly to the couch, covering my face with my hands. Not seconds later, Butch came up and licked my face, and knocked my hands off of my face. Sighing, I pet his big, furry head, wondering what on Earth I had just gotten myself into. I asked Butch a question along those lines, hoping his wisdom would somehow get rubbed off on me.

"Oh, Baby," I said sadly, burying my face in his hair. "What am I going to do?"

He response was to woof and lick my face, all the while panting his bad breath in my face.

So much for wisdom.

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So, what do you think? Is it good, does it suck? Do you not care? DO YOU WANT ME TO STOP WRITING?!?!?!?!?!?

Why don't you just click on that little review button right there and tell me? It doesn't take much to scroll down and click on that little button and say, "Hey! This rocks!", or perhaps, "God, you really suck as a writer!"

Please? Pretty please? Review? For a nice, desperate stranger such as myself?

I'll grovel, I swear to God I'll grovel.

Please review!

Peace

Melly Mel-Mel ^_^


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I am not J.K Rowling, although the faeries and purple humping monkeys tried to talk me into it. But I told them no! I'm not famous, I don't get money for writing, I don't have any fans.

And no! I don't own Oliver or Percy, but that's ok. I can still dream......

Summary: Blind Seeker Kevin Johnson gets signed for Puddlemere United, and not as a reserve Seeker either. And while she seems to be getting more popular by the second, all she wishes to do is find out just what exactly her relationship is with Keeper Oliver Wood. And get away from her obsessive ex, but that can wait. Oliver/OC

Chapter Summary: Kevin goes to the meeting, only to meet a sour Alex Stiller, the reserve Seeker who doesn't think that Kevin has what it takes. A bar fight ensues. Actually, they just have a Seeking competition, but it's good all the same. Oh, and Kevin meets Oliver. Plus, it's a long chapter. Nine pages full of just the chapter, none of my little messages. 

Author's Notes: Here is another chapter. It's long, my fingers hurt, and I'm tired, so it's not really that good. But It's long. Nine pages, ten with the messages, 5394 words alone with out my little messages 5732 with them. And to think it only took my three hours. 

And about the Name thing. I don't know. I just like the name Kevin for a girl. Is that weird or something? I am so confused......

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I was nervous. The leg shaking, sweat on your brow, stomach queasy kind of nervous. I mean, there I was, sitting alone in a cold metal chair, waiting outside of Coach Anderson's office, going through one of the scariest days of my life, and no one had even bothered to get me a glass of water or something. It made me wonder if they really wanted me there or something.

And, on top of all that, I had a pounding headache, kind of like the one I had had the night of the Quidditch Cup. And let me tell you, these were _really_ bad headaches, the kind that you only got when you were overly stressed, or when it was that time of the month. And believe me, I knew for certain that it wasn't that time.

Now, the only time that I had ever had headaches quite like this, at this magnitude, was a couple days before the accident. At that time, they were a warning that my sight was leaving me, but now, I had no idea what they were signifying. I mean, how could a blind person get worse vision? It made no sense.

Unless, of course, my sight was beginning to come back. But I knew that that wasn't very possible, and I had no hopes that it would come back. I mean, I wasn't a very fanciful girl. I knew that, just as many doctors had told me before, my sight would never come back again. There wasn't even a magical potion or spell that could get it back. 

I knew that, but that still didn't stop me from wondering just what in God's name was going on. I mean, there were many people walking past me, talking, their heals clicking against the floor, and even though I could hear their conversation, that didn't stop me from wondering what their face looked like, nor did it stop me from wondering just what expression went with their conversations. 

I think that that kind of shows you how bored I was. I mean, I was so bored, I was listening to other people's conversations, wondering what they looked like. Also, I was mad too. I was mad that I was sitting out in the waiting room, all alone. I was mad that I couldn't hear what they were talking about in there (and believe me, I tried). And I was mad that I was wearing wizarding robes instead of a pair of jeans or something.

That morning, when I Flooed to my best friend Annabelle Lexmark's house, I was in, I am sad to say, a state. And I don't mean the nervousness, although there was that too. Oh no, I am talking about the fact that I was in a fashion state. That means that I barged into her living room, holding up two different robes, standing in pretty much nothing but my bra and underwear.

Now, you may think that that is a weird thing to do. I mean, for all I knew, Annabelle had decided to bring a guy over for the night, and I was interrupting something by standing there wearing practically nothing. But fear not, little friends. I knew that Annabelle hadn't had any _company _that night, for I had specifically told her, the night before, that she wasn't going to bring anyone over just in case something along those lines happened.

I was actually surprised to see that she actually abided by my wishes. 

But anyway, there I was, standing wearing little more than my birthday suit, when I hear Annabelle laughing a few feet to my left. So I twirled around, my arms dropping to my sides. Her laughing wasn't as loud and obnoxious as it usually was, so I was guessing that she was probably eating something. 

I was getting progressively annoyed, and was having trouble at not lashing out at her. I waited a few more minutes before asking with a scowl, "Well? What's so funny?"

Annabelle didn't answer strait away, her laughing making it difficult, but when she did, there was a shrug that went along with it. "Oh, nothing. Just you."

It was at this point that I let out a half growl, half swear. This was probably the wrong thing to, erm, say, for this started Annabelle off again with another laughing fit. It was at that point that I made it my life's mission to find myself some new friends, preferably not ones that seemed to think that my life was some great comedy skit.

This was what I was thinking when Annabelle stopped laughing and asked in a disgusted voice, "What the _fuck _are you holding?" 

Yup, I needed new friends real badly, the only problem was, how in the Hell was I going to find them?

"Are those supposed to be robes?"

I nodded my head, once again letting out the half growl thing. Thankfully, Annabelle didn't start laughing again. Instead, she jumped up off of whatever piece of furniture that she was eating on, causing the floor to squeak. Then, grabbing my hand, she dragged me across her very messy living room to her bedroom. It was there that she plopped me down on her bed, and, still holding my shoulders, said, "Sit."

I, of course, obliged. God only knows what she was pulling out of her closet. Probably some Muggle business suit that she wanted me to wear to my meeting that day. I mean, don't get me wrong. I loved Annabelle and all that good stuff, despite her many quirks. But to be brutally honest, she had the worst sense in fashion that I've ever come across.

It was a could minutes before she let out a shriek and started doing what I supposed was a face paced little jig. One that, I might add, caused her floppy water bed to do funky gyrations underneath my butt. I was still holding the edge of the bed when she said loudly, "Yes! I found it! The _perfect _thing!"

I was very, very afraid. I mean, God only knows what she was holding up in front of my face. For all I know, it could have been some outfit from one of her many clothing fazes, maybe even something from her weird Muggle Disco faze. 

This was the only reason that I asked with trepidation, "And what would this _perfect _thing be?"

I was practically sent sprawling on her bed by the large wave that she used with her hand. That may sound like a massive overstatement, and if you think that that is one, then you obviously don't know Annabelle Lexmark. Anne was a very tall, and from what I understand, very beautiful blonde. She was very eccentric, and tended to overact over pretty much anything, 

"Oh, don't worry. It's nothing from that whole hippie thing I was going through last summer. In fact, it's not even mine. It's Alexandria's."

I let out a sigh of relief. Alexandria was Annabelle's twin sister, and while they looked alike and shared the same genes and all that good stuff, they were exact opposites. While Annabelle was loud and boisterous, Alexandria was reserved and shy. And while Annabelle went a little overboard with her fashion sense, Alexandria was cute and conservative, thus making her the safe zone.

God I loved my friends' siblings.

"It's not much," Annabelle was rambling on, describing to me the article of clothing that she held in her hands. "It's supposed to be pleaded mini-skirt, but since you're so short, it's really only a knee length skirt to you. And the top is silver, which will make a good contrast with your light skin."

"But what about the robe?" I asked, much more calm now that I knew what she was holding. "What is that like?"

"Well, it's black, just like the skirt. Pretty plain actually, but it'll do."

There was a pause in which she flew the outfit at me, causing the bed to start wobbling again. I managed to hold on though, making sure all the while that the clothes didn't fall off the bed. "Thanks," I said, tears in my eyes. "Just, thanks."

"No problem," came Annabelle's reply. She turned around and gave me hug. "You know I'm here for you, right?"

I nodded, plastering a watery smile on my face. "Oh, you're only saying that so you feel like I'll own you money or something when I become famous." She let go of me and started walking towards the doorway.

"Wow," Annabelle said sarcastically, her voice somewhere over by her bedroom door. "You sure found out my secret plan." She walked out the door. "Now get that cute little ass dressed. You don't want to go to a meeting of such importance buck naked, do you?" And she was gone.

I dressed quickly, wanting to get to the Quidditch Headquarters as soon as possible. The meeting was to start promptly at 10:00 am, and I had a good feeling that it was probably a little before 8:30. Nothing like being late before you even start to make a good impression.

When I was done, I grabbed a pair of shoes, hoping against hope that Annabelle hadn't put some random pair of shoes in any old box, and practically ran out of her room, dodging piles of Merlin only knows what. When I got to the living room, Annabelle let out a wolf whistle, getting up off of the couch that she was sitting on.

"Girl, you look _hot _in that. Who ever knew that Alex knew how to look sexy?"

I just stared blankly ahead, not knowing just what to say to that. I mean, I didn't feel any different than I usually did; this was usually what I wore everyday anyway. So why was Annabelle making such a big deal out of things?

"Anyhoo," Annabelle said, clapping her hands together. "All we need is a little make up on that pretty face of yours and you'll be ready to go." And with that, she plopped me down for the second time that day on some random piece of furniture, each time doing something to help me look better. With all this attention, it would make a person wonder if they looked all that bad......

A couple minutes later, I was all done up with blush, eye shadow, and lipstick, looking, as Annabelle told me, "Perfectly natural." I wanted to ask her what the point of painting me with natural colors was, but refrained, just barely.

There was a minute or two of silence in which I put the shoes on, each foot taking a while to wrap and tie. I was just getting up to leave when I heard Annabelle ask, "Are you taking Butch?"

I snorted. Like I would take a huge dog that practically jumped on anything that was female to one of the most important meetings of my life. "No," I said, not letting out that Butch went heat-crazy whenever there was anything with legs around. "I don't think that I will. I'm going to Apparate there," I added, noting her silence. 

"Oh, ok then," she said, pulling me into another bone crushing hug. "Call me later, all right? I want to hear all about your day." 

After assuring her that I would, I bid her farewell and Apparated to my house, grabbing my keys and running a brush through my hair. And after a pat on the head for Butch, I headed out, Apparating to the Quidditch Headquarters.

And now, there I was, sitting in a cold chair, nervous, with a killer headache and nothing to do. I mean, it would have been nice if there were some magazines in brail I could read (trust me on this, I checked), but the headquarters, like many other places, seemed to be utterly unaware of the needs of blind people. 

This was what I was thinking, (well, that and wondering what time it was), when the door across from my chair opened with a loud squeak. There was a pause in which I looked from the ceiling to where the door was located, all the while wondering if it was time for me to head into the meeting. After a second, I heard a deep voice ask me, "Miss Johnson?"

With a nod, I got up from my seat, asking myself silently if this was Coach Anderson. "Yes. And who may I ask are you?" All the while I kept walking closer to him, my shoes clicking against the floor like the people that I heard conversations from. For some odd reason, this made me feel inferior to people who I had never even met,

"Oh!" The man said, smiling and clapping his hands together. "I am the Puddlemere United coach, Timothy Anderson." He stuck out his hand for me to shake, which I did, pumping his hand up and down. "But just call me Tim for now, all right? All those words make for a long title."

I smiled, liking Tim already. He seemed to be a very nice person, one that would go out of his way to make you feel good. "Alright, Tim," I said, still smiling. "Do you need me for anything?"

"What?" He asked. "Oh, yes! Yes, as a matter of fact, they want you in there now. Sorry it took so long."

"Oh, it was nothing," I lied as I walked in the door, Tim's hand at the small of my back. "I kept occupied."

"Doing what, may I ask?" Came a jolly voice from somewhere far away. Bob.

"Wouldn't you like the know," I teased him as Tim propelled me towards an open seat. He opened the seat for me, and I sat down, thanking him with a smile.

Then Tim walked away, leaving me to become very aware of all the eyes on me. If I were a gambling person, and I wasn't, I would guess that there had to be at least seventeen people other than myself in the room, and I was very aware of all of those eyes on me, assessing me for the long run.

After a couple minutes of all of that evaluating, someone clapped their hands together, drawing the attention off of me; I secretly made them my new best friend. 

"Now," Tim said, his voice loud and booming. "I am assuming that you know why you are here?" After he was done saying this, I felt everyone's eyes swivel back to me.

I shrugged. "I know a little bit. Just that you wanted me here to ask me something about signing?"

"Yes," a different voice said, and I was suddenly hit with the idea that that person was nodding their head. "We want you to sign on with us as our new Seeker for the next seven years."

I raised my eyebrows; I was shocked. Seven years? _Seven years?_ I thought that at the most, I would be signing on for three years. But for seven? Weren't they taking a great risk?

My shock must have shown on my face, for Tim asked me, "What? Is that too much? You want us to knock off a few years? Because we can do that. James, call....."

I cut him off. "No, that's all right. I'm just surprised is all. I mean," a said, regaining my composure a bit. "I'm just some Seeker playing for the Chicago Goats. I'm just some _blind _Seeker playing for the Chicago Goats. What can I bring to this already great team?"

"Well," A bold female voice said from somewhere down the table. "You can bring skill, popularity, and help us show equality of the sexes."

I grinned and asked, although it was blatantly obvious who it was, "Elizabeth Popper?"

Elizabeth Popper was an infamous Quidditch player that fought for Woman's Right on days that there was no practice. This alone wouldn't have been enough to make her famous, but coupled with the fact that she was arrested almost every week, that seemed to be enough to make anyone famous in the world of Quidditch.

"Yea," she said, at once on the defensive. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Of course not," I hastened to assure her. "It's just amazing that I'm in the same room as you." Ok, so that was an ego feeder if I ever gave one, but no one needed to know that.

"Good," she said slinking down in her seat, a smile in her voice.

"Ok," the guy that had interrupted Tim about ten minutes before said. "So do you want to know what you get out of becoming our Seeker?"

I was about the answer, my mouth already open, when a loud, male voice practically yelled, "Besides popularity, money, and becoming an instant celebrity, you mean?"

I was shocked for the second time that day, and decided right on the spot that that person had a death wish. I mean, someone that thought that Quidditch was all about money and popularity had to be just some jackass that didn't even appreciate the freedom that Quidditch offered.

"Alex!" Tim said, outraged. "That was uncalled for. Apologize to Miss Johnson."

"You actually expect me to apologize to _that_," there was a pause in which he probably pointed to me. "Some _blind Seeker _that is just in it for the money and the...."

"Actually," I said coolly, angry out of my mind at the insufferable boy that probably thought that he was better than me just because he could see. "I like Quidditch as a whole. I like everything about it, even insufferable cry babies like you."

"You bitch!" The man leapt up from his seat, only a couple away from mine, and practically ran over to me. "You blind little bitch! I swear to Merlin that I'm going to...."

"Going to what?" I asked, putting a hand to my chest. "Beat a poor, defenseless, blind woman such as myself? Is that hardly fair?"

"What are you getting at?" He asked me, spittle flying into my face. I wiped it away. 

"Well, it's more than a little obvious that you want this job that's being offered to me, so why don't we both put our skills to the test?"

"What the Hell are you talking about?" He asked me again, this time suspicious.

"God, I feel like I'm talking to an idiot here." There were more than a few muffled laughs at this comment, and even one loud laugh that seemed to come out unadulterated from somewhere to my right. "I'm talking about a good old fashioned Seeking competition. You know, like the coaches at Hogwarts do it...."

"I know how they do it over at Hogwarts. I was the Slytherin Seeker for two years," he added proudly, like this was something that only the best could be.

"Wow, I applaud you, I really do. It really must be a shame for you then to know that I was the Gryffindor Seeker after Harry Potter for five years."

"You were the Seeker after Harry?" A female voice asked from the same general direction as Elizabeth. "You must be really good it they replaced Harry with you."

I shrugged. "I don't know. Gryffindor was looking for a Seeker and I guess I was there."

"And I guess it's too bad that they got you, 'cause Slytherin won every years after that."

I turned my head, looking at where Alex was like he was crazy. "You are really the most asinine person I have ever met, you know that?" I asked him, knowing that he wouldn't know what in the Hell I was talking about "Slytherin never won while I was Seeker. Where's the potion that you've been drinking?"

Once again, there was laughter from all around the table, only this time, not even one was covered up with a hand. Alex waited until everyone was finished before he said, spitting in my face again, "_Fine_. I'll do the stupid Seeking competition with you. But," he added, shoving a hand in my face. "I'm not going easy on you." And he walked away, probably towards the changing room over by the pitch.

"Oh, ok then!" I called back after him. "Then I guess I still won't need to work much harder than usual!" And then I sat back down, twittering with my fingers, trying to block out the many eyes that were looking at me.

"Uh, sorry?" I asked after no one stopped looking at me. 

"You're bloody brilliant!" Exclaimed Elizabeth from down the table. "Even I don't stand up to Alex."

I shrugged. "It's not like I'm brave or anything special. That guy is a dick, and I'm not going to let him insult the fact that I am blind."

This seemed to settle differently all over the room, and after a while, the girl that was next to Elizabeth said pointedly, "Well, I guess now is as good as any to show you the way changing rooms." And then she got up out of her seat, walking towards the door. Then Elizabeth came over to me to shake my and praise me some more as she walked me towards the doorway.

As I walked out the doorway, Elizabeth next to me, I became aware that someone was watching me exit the room. I had a good feeling that it was Tim Anderson, probably wondering just what in the Hell he had gotten himself into.

"You can just use my robes," Elizabeth said, handing me a pile of silky fabric. I thanked her and turned around, unbuttoning my robes and blouse. I was just getting ready to put on the robes when I realized that Elizabeth was being very quite.

"Are you alright?" I asked her, worried. "Is there anything wrong?"

I heard her shake her head as she sat down on the bench next to me. "No, I'm fine. I was just thinking about your performance back there."

"It wasn't a performance," I said angrily, pulling on boots. "That guy is a serious asshole, and I just hate people like that; I've had to live around a lot of people like that, and it just brings back bad memories."

"It's ok. I can kind of relate," she said as she handed me her broom. By the weight and feel of it, it was a Firebolt, and it was kept in very good condition. "I mean, I was born deaf, but before my surgery, I couldn't hear a _damn _thing."

"Well," I said as I headed towards the doorway. "At least you had the option of a surgery." And I headed out into the Quidditch pitch, leaving Elizabeth behind me.

As I walked out onto the field, I felt the sun beating down on my neck and back, helping me feel alive. My hair was pulled back in a tight bun at the back of my head, and I was thankful that Annabelle hadn't talked me into doing it in some elaborate style. My borrowed boots were at least two sizes too big, as were the robes, but over all, I felt very good about myself.

Somewhere through my thinking process, Elizabeth had caught up with me and was now walking silently beside me, probably thinking she was giving my support or something, when in reality, she was just making me even more nervous than I already was.

It took us a couple minutes to get to where Alex was, and I knew strait away that he was in a bad mood. His whole body was giving off this aura around him that seemed to make the very ground he was standing on reverberate with his heart beat. It was enough to make my headache come back, full throttle. 

"Are you ready?" He asked me in a smug voice, obviously thinking that he was going to better me at Quidditch just because he could see.

I shrugged. "Sure. It's not like this will be difficult." I was putting up a good bravado, but I wondered if her thought it was real.

"Just get on the damn broom," he said, his jaw clenched. 

So I did, straddling the broom, feeling it underneath my hands. It seemed to be moving with it's own energy, probably getting fed by my own adrenalin rush. It was all kind of invigorating, and seemed to give me actual courage, not any of the fake stuff that I was using as a face earlier. 

"One......" Tim's voice said from a place that seemed far away. I centered my weight evenly on my feet.

"Two....." I heard Alex laugh under his breath and say something that sounded a lot like, "Stupid blind bitch." I forced more power on my feet, ready to push up off of the ground. 

"Three...." I pushed off with all my might, leaving Alex in the dust behind me.

I circled the pitch for a couple minutes, getting the feel of it. The people on the ground seemed to understand this, and waiting until I had stopped before one of them yelled, "Ok! I'm letting the Snich go now! Be ready for it!"

And, from fifty feet above the ground, I heard the tiny flapping of the Snich's wigs before it sped off into the dark oblivion. 

Now, many people have asked me just how I do the job as Seeker on many, many occasions. They seemed to think that it was impossible for a blind person, especially a woman, to be Seeker, and actually be good at it. It was times like these that really pissed me off.

To tell you the truth, this annoyed me more than my memories of the first couple of weeks of my blindness because I didn't have a good answer. I mean, I just _played_. I just lived in the moment. When I first told people this, they seemed to think I was inane. Why, I didn't know. One day, I finally, I got the courage to ask a fellow Quidditch player why this was so weird, and he told me that it was because no one else said that Quidditch was like that. He told me that most of the time, people said that it was help from all of the strategies and fellow team members. 

And then he walked away, just like everyone else did, probably thinking that I was absurd and that going blind screwed up my brain cells. 

But that was in the Past, and I had told myself long ago that I would live in the Present, not dwelling on things that I couldn't change. So I forced myself to pay attention to the game.

I could tell that Alex had no clue where the Snich was, how I don't know. I just knew that he was bobbing up and down in the air, staying in one place, searching around the pitch for any flash of gold.

That was another difference between myself and other Seekers. They relied on sight to help them win a match. They didn't even seem to realize that all of their senses played into just the small act of catching the Snich.

Take, for instance, touch. With the sense of touch, you would be able to feel the difference in the air pressure, and at the end, grasping the Snich around their hand.

Sight was a given.

Taste was and could be used as a test for the wind, to see if there was any other _thing _sharing the air around you.

Smell was used just as taste was, as they pretty much played together.

Hearing was and still is the most important though. Hearing helped you listen for Bludgers whizzing by you, helped you hear any sounds from the fans or the other team members. But it also helped you listen for the soft fluttering of wings.

And that was what I was doing then. I was perched up on my borrowed broom, craning my neck for that one particular noise that I had listened for, for many times in my life. It was the sound of victory, my heartbeat, my _life_. And I wasn't going to let some punk like Alex take that away from me.

"Hey, bitch!" The punk in question yelled to me. "The Snich is right next to you. Why don't you grab it?" He asked sarcastically. "Save us both some trouble."

"I would, you idiot!" I yelled back. "Only the Snich is no where near me. Sorry!"

I knew that Alex had just opened his mouth to retort, when I heard it. The tiny flapping of wings, the sound of life. It was coming from somewhere way, way down towards the bottom on the pitch. Without consciously thinking about it, I dived, leaving Alex in my dust.

Now, even to this day, I don't know why Alex didn't dive right after me, but I have a good idea that it had something to do with the fact that he thought I was feinting. Either that, or he was just an idiot, and blind like me. Actually, now that I think about it, those options both work....

But anyway, it took a while for Alex to realize that I had indeed seen the Snich, and he did speed on after me, but by then, it was too late. By then, I was lying flat on my stomach, my weight even, my hand outstretched. He had to be a good twenty feet in back of me when I grasped the little golden ball.

I felt my life flutter helplessly in my palm as I flew down towards the ground, landing on the grass in the middle of cheering people. They all ran towards me as I looked down at my palm, hearing the small ball practically tell me to let go. 

I, of course, did not, instead deciding to hold onto it for just a couple minutes more. I guess that that was for the best, for just as I made my decision, Tim can over to me and grasped my hand that wasn't holding the Snich, pumping it up and down again.

"That was a great catch!" Elizabeth cried, wrapping her arms around my neck. "That was bloody great!"

"Erm," I said, blushing. "Thanks, I guess."

"Kevin!" Bob called from somewhere in the middle of the crowd. "Kevin, that was great! Not one of your best, I must say, but great all the same."

"Thanks for the crumbs off of your plate, Bob," I said dryly, handing the Snich to the first person, which turned out to be Elizabeth. I turned towards Tim. "So, Tim, do you think that I'm going to be signing anytime soon....?"

I heard the smile in his voice when he told me, "Oh, yes, I think you will. Just wait for me to get the papers and a pen, and we'll be ready to role."

"That's good," I said. "But I kind of need to hit the showers, if you know what I mean....."

Everyone laughed and backed away, still telling me that that was a great catch. I was just about to turn around and head towards the changing room when Alex called up to our little group, malice in his voice, "This isn't over yet, Johnson. I'll see to that."

"Oh, I'm shaking!" I said dramatically to everyone in the little ground, knowing that Alex couldn't hear me. "I think I'm going to drown myself in the shower now." And on that note, I walked away, leaving everyone laughing behind me.

But, just as I was about to head into the room, I heard a deep voice with a Scottish accent say to me, "You might want to watch out where Stiller is concerned. I've known him a lot longer than you have. You don't know what he's capable of."

"That's nice Mr....?"

"Wood," the man said without emotion. "Oliver Wood."

"Well Oliver," I said, pushing my now free hair behind my ears; as I went into the dive, it came loose. "You don't know me at all, so you don't what _I'm_ capable of. Good bye."

With those words, I left him standing there, probably with a dumbfound expression on his face. But I was too stoked to care. 

I had to call Annabelle to tell her the good news.

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My poor fingers! I have been typing for three hours, only managing to get nine pages done. I feel like such a failure! Please, please don't kill me! 

I'll give you a cookie. Or marshmallows. Or maybe a brownie? But please, for the sake of this bribe, don't kill me! Please!

My poor fingers! Hurts too much to type.

Must get sleep, as it is 2:50 over here. Sleep good. 

Reviewing good to. Loosing your mind bad, very, very, _bad_.

Review please!

Peace,

Melly Mel-Mel


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I am not J.K Rowling, sadly. But I am the ruler of the little pink moles, so that makes it up kind of.

Summary for this chapter : Kevin signs, all the while meeting (unfortunately) with her ex boyfriend. There is going to be a ball, in which Kevin will…. Oh! Wait, that's the next chapter. Never mind!

Author's Notes: Um, yea. Sorry for the short chapter. I've been a little busy lately. But that's ok. Right? Right?! RIGHT?!? I really need to stop typing that….

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"I can't believe that you said that to him!" Annabelle yelled, plopping down on the couch. "I mean, Oliver Wood is the sweetest man you will ever meet." 

I sighed, plopping my face into my hands. "I know!" I said, sounding upset. "But in my own defense, I have to tell you that I was upset over Alex, and Oliver mentioning him wasn't doing me any good."

We were over at my house, fooling around and just hanging out. We used to do that when we were at Hogwarts, spreading gossip and lounging on our beds until it was ten minutes until lights out and we had to go back to our own houses. At that time, we were both very upset that we weren't in the same house, always moaning to our other friends that we missed each other. Things had changed over the years a bit, for the better; we had more ice cream to go around.

After I was done changing out of my borrowed uniform and boots and was back into my other borrowed clothes, I walked out into the pitch again, wondering if they were still going to be rejoicing. I soon found out that they were indeed still out on the field, only the rejoicing was pretty much done with. Instead, they were all standing pretty much how I left them, all in a circle, all talking about the "remarkable" save I did.

"Did you see how she was flat across the handle?" The other girl, Katie Bell, I learned later, said, awe in her voice. "I've never see anyone do it that well before. I mean, sure, Harry was great at dives and such, but the only time I ever saw him do that, he pretty much flipped right over the end."

"Well," Bob said smugly. "You should have seen what she did in her first professional match. She hung upside down with only one leg, caught the Snitch, and then spun around until she had righted herself. It was bloody brilliant."

"It sounds like it was quite a show," Elizabeth replied. "Is she always that good with catches, I wonder? What do you think, Oliver?"

This was the only time that I had heard Oliver addressed the entire time I had been at the meeting. At first, I hadn't even known that he was in the room, the entire meeting actually. It seemed to me that he liked to keep to himself and focus on Quidditch, which pretty much matched with what I had heard about him. 

"Uh," He said unintelligently in his Scottish brogue. "I don't really know. I mean, no one can be that good all the time, can they? Especially someone blind." 

Long ago, I had told myself that comments like that didn't hurt me, unless they were from dicks like Alex Stiller. But when someone used it in that tone, like they really didn't know, it bothered me. It bothered me because it showed just how ignorant people were and how they just assumed certain things. 

But even though I had taught and told myself that long ago, his comment still stung.

"Well," Bob said, coming to my rescue. "I don't really know if that's true, but Kevin is an exception to every rule."

Now, to tell you the truth, I didn't know if this was a compliment. Still don't actually, but at any rate, this was when I decided to make my presence known. "Aw, thanks, Bob. I knew you loved me, but that brought tears to my eyes." I pretended to swipe away at fake tears. 

This little action caused several reactions. One was that Oliver, Elizabeth, and two other people I didn't know laughed. Another was that Tim let out a startled but happy yell, and said loudly, "Ah! There she is! I wondered if she secretly ran away and was afraid to sign with us." And the last was many people started on about my "superb Quidditch skills." And there I was, lost in the middle of it all. 

Lucky me.

"There's the woman of the hour!" Some unsystematic person exclaimed. "The one that's going to win us the Cup!"

Here was the point that I wanted to ask them if they realized that they had, in fact, already won the Quidditch Cup, but refrained from doing so, just barely. I wouldn't want to say anything that would make them want to reevaluate their decision on making me Seeker. Actually, someone else said something along those lines, helping me get the answer I was looking for.

"We already did win the Cup, don't forget, Rufus." The man had a melodic voice, and I suddenly thought that I was talking to a man that san rather than said.

"Yes, I did realize that, James. But you need to remember that Potter got the Snitch almost before we scored that last goal. We would've tied had it not been for Elizabeth's dumb luck."

"I hardly think that that is relevant," Elizabeth said, sounding scandalized. "It was more than dumb luck on my part, thank you very much. It was my skill and the fact that I am a…."

"An idiot?" Inquired a loud voice. I closed my eyes, hoping against hope that it wasn't who I thought it was. I silently prayed, hoping God would hear me. "Or was I the only one who got that memo?"

"Ah! Dustin!" Cried Katie happily. "I haven't seen you for ages! How have you been?"

"Great," was his noncommittal answer. "Perfectly peachy."

"That's good," Elizabeth replied, and, despite his earlier comment, she seemed to be smiling. 

"Yea, I guess." He clapped his hands together. "So I just decided to stop by. Anything new happening?"

"Why yes!" Tim replied, sounding ecstatic. "We were just about to sign on a new Seeker. Absolutely marvelous, she is."

"Really?" Dustin said slowly, sounding interested. "And who, may I ask, is the luck lady?"

"Well, she's right here." There was a pause that I guessed he turned around and pointed to me in. "Dustin, may I introduce you to…?"

"Kevin," Dustin said softly, barely above a whisper. 

"Troung," I replied simply. "How are you?"

"I think you can do better than that for an old friend," Dustin said in what he probably thought was an appealing voice, but was actually quite annoying. 

"I probably could," I said, trying to repress the urge to glare. "If you were my friend."

"That stings, Kevin."

"Yea, well, get over it."

I could tell that he was about to say something in response to this, but was, thankfully, interrupted by Oliver saying pointedly. "Not to intrude or anything but," he paused for a moment. "How exactly do you two know each other?"

Before I was able to reply, Dustin said in this totally nonplused voice, "We used to go out." I couldn't stop the shudder.

"And trust me," I said before anyone could respond to this shocking information. "It wasn't the greatest of times for me."

This took another couple minutes for them to process this information, and when they were done, Elizabeth asked me, as if I were crazy, "But why? Dustin is just a doll."

I snorted. "Yea, right. To you maybe, but it's all really just a very perfect façade that he sets up."

"What do you mean?" Asked Katie. "Was he bad in the relationship or something?"

"Oh, I don't know. If you think that…."

"Marital problems," Dustin said quickly, never one to set up a bad example of himself. "It was all just a bunch marital problems." I snorted in response, but said nothing. 

Dustin and mine's break up had nothing to do with marital problems. It was all over his inability to commit, and his relationship fears. Actually, it was more the fact that he cheated on me that started the break up, and once it was done with, I realized that he was had many problems that he was too fearful to admit.

"Alright-y then," Tim said with a clap of his hands. "Shall we get on with the paperwork? It's going to take a good hour or two, and there are still things that we need to discuss."

We all agreed that that was probably the best way to go about things, and headed up to Tim's office. Through the entire thing, Dustin stayed, obviously knowing that he was getting to me. He even had the nerve to hug me along with everyone else once I was done signing, and he didn't let go of me strait away either like everyone else had.

After that, we talked for a while, just sitting around and talking about team/player-statistics along with Quidditch in general. It was a good hour or two before I told everyone that I had to get home and feed Butch and call a friend. I put emphasis on "friend", hoping to wig Dustin out a bit, but I didn't know, not then anyway, if it had worked. Just as I was about to leave, Tim stopped me by saying, "Oh! I almost forgot."

I stopped in the doorway, "Yes?"

"Well," Tim said smiling. "On account of you signing with us, we are going to hold an inauguration ball. It's to take place on Wednesday. The press will be there and stuff. I hope to see you there." 

"Of course I'll be there," I assured him. "Wouldn't miss it." Then I smiled, a cunning plan forming. "Can I bring a date?"

Tim seemed surprised, for there was a short silence. After a couple seconds, he said, "Of course. If that pleases you."

I smiled again and said, as I walked out the door, "It does please me." I waved. "Good bye!"

I got to the hallway that lead off to the Apparation Point when I realized someone was following me. Thinking that it was going to be Tim or someone running up to tell me something that they forgot, I stopped. I learned, however, that it was someone that I didn't want to talk to.

"Kevin!" Dustin called. "Wait up a moment!"

Instead, I kept walking and flipped him off, hoping he would get the message that I didn't want to talk to him. He didn't.

"Dammit, Kevin!" He yelled as he caught up with me, yanking my wrist. "I told you to wait up a moment."

Now, I can hardily be held accountable for what I did next. After all, I was very angry with Alex, and I was upset that I took that out on Oliver. So, all in all, I was a jumble of emotions.

So I hit it. And I don't mean the, "I'm a girl so I'm going to hurt you with my nails," hit either. I'm talking about the, "you are a son-of-a-bitch, and I hate you," kind of hit. I guess I must have hit him a little too hard, for the next minute he sounded like he was holding his jaw when he said, "You bitch! How dare you hit me?"

I didn't give him the satisfaction of answering that question, but I did have the heart to say, "Have a nice life, Dustin!" 

As I walked away, I heard him go…..

"Hello! Earth to Kevin!" Annabelle said, waving a hand in my face, knocking me out of my thoughts.

"What?" I asked intelligently. "Were you saying something?"

She huffed and probably crossed her chest with her arms. "No. I wasn't saying anything of _importance_." She stressed on the word which led me to believe that she was probably thinking about clothes.

"Ok," I said. "Now I know that you were trying to tell me something important. I'm sorry. Now can you tell me what you were saying?"

"Ok," Annabelle said, happy once again. "I was just wondering who you were going to take to the ball."

I smiled, remembering what I was thinking when I asked Tim about the whole date thing. I slowly inched my arm around Annabelle's shoulders.

"Hey baby," I said, my voice a purr. "How would you like to go with a sexy, eligible woman?" I raised my eyebrows suggestively. 

"Oh no!" Annabelle said, putting her hands in front of her face. "Oh, no, no, no, no. As much as I love you and all that good stuff, I am _not _going to go to a ball with you." And then she got up to clear up our empty bowls of ice cream. 

"Please, Annie?" I asked her, pouting. "It's not like they are going to think we're gay or anything. They already know that I dated Dustin."

"Yea, and he's enough of a girl to make people think otherwise."

"Annabelle," I said sadly, not wanting to result to this. "If you don't go with me, I swear to God that I'll tell Oliver that you have had the biggest crush on him since our second year."

"Ahh!" She yelled, running from the kitchen to the couch and landing with a _plop _next to me. "You wouldn't dear."

"Oh?" I asked angelically. "Wouldn't I?"

"No," she said just as smugly as I did not moments before. "You won't, or else I'll tell everyone that you liked Professor Snape our entire Hogwarts career,"

I waved that off. "Everyone already knows about that. And yes," I said to the dubious look I knew Annabelle was giving me. "Even Severus knows it."

There was a long silence in which she groaned, and I knew I won. "Fine," she said, not sounding the least bit happy. "I'll go with you. But you got to let me dress however I like."

"Ok then, love," I said jokingly, settling it all. "But look on the bright side, at least Oliver will be there."

I knew at this point that she sent me a glare to kill all, but that was OK. I was the new Puddlemere Seeker, after all. 

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Hello everybody! Sorry about the small chapter. I haven't really had the time to write, unless I go to the library, which is a half an hour walk away. So yea.

And sorry about the little bit of Oliver in this chapter! But I think that you will forgive in the next chapter, when I have Oliver galore! 

Okee day then. I gotta go. But review. Please?

Please? Please? Pease? Please? Please? Please? Please? Please?

I can keep going you know. 

Please? Please? Pease? Please? Please? Please? Please? Please? Please? Please? Pease? Please? Please? Please? Please? Please Please? Please? Pease? Please? Please? Please? Please? 

Ok, this is just hurting my fingers. So I'm going to stop now, seeing as I think you got the point.

Peace

Melly Mle-Mel 


	4. Chapter Four

QUICK A/N!: Please ignore the oddness of the formatting. Fanfiction.net is a little crappy right now and won't let you use little cursers in the middle of the chapter. So I used bold print for the beginning of everything little.. thing that's further along in time. Hope you can understand it!

"Are you ready yet?" I yelled to Annabelle, who was currently rummaging around in her room. "I mean, I know you're having some sort of fashion emergency, but that doesn't necessarily mean that you have to take a whole two hours getting ready."

"Aw, fuck it!" I heard her yell in response. "I don't need all this fucking pressure. First," she said as she headed out of her bedroom, "I couldn't find my earrings, causing me to need to find new robes to wear. Then, I can't find the right shoes. Couple that with the fact that I ran out of my favorite eye shadow, and you have more than a fashion emergency. You have a fashion tragedy."

I stared blankly up at her; she was standing above me, and I rather had the notion that she was putting on earrings. "Don't you think that you're taking this _way _out of proportion?" I asked her, once I could figure out just what to say. I wasn't exactly a slave to fashion, and I didn't have anything to compare to Annabelle's resent crisis with. "I'm sure you look just fine the way you are. You're beautiful, no matter what you look like."

This seemed to have the opposite effect of what I was shooting for, if her angry silence was any indication. "How can _you_ tell?" She snapped irritably. "You're blind."

I sat on her couch in a stunned silence for a couple minutes, trying to fight the urge to cry. After a moment, I got up, blinking back tears. "Well," I said as I shoved my arms into my jacket. "At least I know what you really think of me." And after that, I headed towards the door.

Annabelle hadn't said anything like that to me, ever. There had been times when she had been telling me about something absolutely gorgeous, and I would get upset because I had no idea what the article or person looked like. It had always been me that had been angry about my blindness, always the one frustrated with it; Annabelle had always been the one to get my spirits up to it's usual perkiness. At least, that's what I had always thought it was like. After hearing what Annabelle had said, it made me think a little differently.

I walked to the front door without crashing into some arbitrary object for once, and I thought that it was a miracle that Annabelle had actually cleaned. Then I thought that maybe Annabelle had just thought she was going to get lucky, and be able to invite somebody from the ball over to her house. It was a rude thing to think, as Annabelle was the sweetest person anyone would ever meet, but I was still hurt and really peeved about what she said, and I was in the mood to think of something mean.

I had my hand on the doorknob when Annabelle leaped upon me, her arms wrapping me up in a backwards sort of hug. I stiffened, but didn't try to pull away. "I'm sorry," she muttered quietly, as if she was ashamed that she was saying such a thing; Annabelle always stuck by the belief that she was always right, no matter what anyone said to contradict that theory.

"What was that?" I grumbled petulantly. I knew, of course, but that still didn't mean I wasn't mad at her. "I don't think I quite heard you."

I felt her sigh against my back. "You know very well, Kevin. But I'll say it again anyways. I'm sorry." She stressed upon the last sentence so heavily that it tore into me. How could I stay mad at my best friend after she said that with such raw emotion in her voice?

I sighed as if it was all I could do to forgive her. "Very well," I said to her. She still had her arms around my neck, and when she had waited for my reply, they had tightened. "I forgive you."

I felt a whoosh of relieved air come out of her mouth. "Thanks. I know that that was rude of me to say, but... well, I'm just nervous, okay? I'm just a petty writer working for the Daily Prophet Human Interest department. You're the great and wonderful Seeker that just got signed with Puddlemere United. I just want to make a good impression."

"A good impression with the owners of the team, or get on the good side of Oliver Wood so that you can get an illusive interview with him?" Saying Oliver's name made me think back to him. I had only spoken to him once, not counting the day I signed. And only then, we had talked mostly about Quidditch and possible strategies... and that conversation had lasted only about five minutes. As I thought about him, my eyebrows drew together.

Thankfully, Annabelle missed it. She was talking to me about this new guy who worked over at the Prophet, who was just to _die_ for, almost as if nothing had happened. Had Annabelle just said something in the heat of the moment, not really thinking, or had it been more? Had she really been expressing her true feelings about me, summing it up all into one sentence?

"You're blind." She had said, as cuttingly as if she was dismissing me from her very presence. I tried not to think of this as we headed for Melody Hall.

Melody Hall was a large building with many white marble columns and stairs. They had imported most of the sandstone used to make the building from Egypt, and the crystal chandelier hanging outside was ten feet across. All of this I had learned from an overenthusiastic Elizabeth Popper the night before when we got together for coffee at a quiet café near my house.

As we walked into the large doors, I heard Annabelle, 'Ooooh,' next to me. I didn't have enough courage to ask what was so amazing, not after what had happened just a half an hour before. Annabelle led us over to the coat check in, and after we had given our coats to him and gotten a ticket in return, we headed towards the ballroom.

I was dressed in a newly purchased set of robes, maroon, one of Gryffindor's house colors, and it was paired with a set of dangly earrings and a matching necklace. My hair was in some sort of up 'do that Annabelle had said made me look very regal and charming, and I was also wearing red eye shadow that I was told brought out the color of my eyes. But even though I was dressed for a ball, I still felt horribly out of place among all the people in there. I'm guessing Annabelle felt the same way, for she was stiff next to me.

"You should see this one woman," Annabelle said to me after a couple minutes. "She looks to be about forty, and yet she has the audacity the wear her hair down… hair that just so happens to be light blond and fall to her waist." She scoffed. "What an idiot."

"You should see," Annabelle had said. _"You're blind." _Was that all she thought of me? Just some petty little blind woman that couldn't find her way around the world? Thinking these thoughts made me upset, and I asked Annabelle to get me some champagne. Once she was off doing my bidding, I mingled around the ballroom.

I'm not really sure why I was walking around. Perhaps it's because I was trying to get away from the thoughts that had been piercing my mind all night. Or maybe I just wanted to get away from Annabelle. But whatever the reason, I found myself venturing away from her. It didn't take me long to bump into someone I knew.

"Kevin?"

I spun around towards the voice without actually registering it. Only after I was in front of the person who had spoken did I realize who exactly it was. I groaned loudly. "What do you want, Dustin? Come to harass me some more?"

"I don't harass you," he replied. "I just merely try to get your attention."

I snorted. "Oh, that's rich. '_Try to get my attention_'? Why didn't you try any of that back when we were dating instead of focusing on fucking that bimbo?" I was referring to when he cheated on me, and I knew that he didn't like it. But I didn't care; I was too pissed off to be anywhere _near_ caring.

"God Kevin," Dustin replied. "Can you be any more crude?"

Actually, yes, I could, but this wasn't the place. "What do you want, Dustin? I'm not in the mood to fight with you."

I heard him shrug. "Just to talk. Catch up. You know."

Those were never words you want to hear from your ex- boyfriend. Especially not from a lying, cheating ex-boyfriend. I sighed. "What do you _really_ want Dustin? You never used to want to know about me, and this was even back when we were dating."

He cracked his knuckles, and I repressed a shudder; I hate it when people do that. Dustin only did it when he was nervous or wanted something. And since he wasn't really a person to get nervous -unless he was in _major_ trouble- I supposed he wanted something from me. "Well, you know I'm not one to beat around the bush...."

Once again I snorted. No, that didn't fit his personality at all. "So I'm going to be as blunt as I usually am. I want to get back together with you."

I laughed so hard my sides started to shake. "Oh my God," I said in between bouts of laughter, "that is one of the funniest things I have heard in my entire life." I started to crack up again.

"I don't find that particularly funny," Dustin said seriously. "I've been thinking about how badly I messed up, and over something as petty as sex." I grunted. "I want a second chance."

"Well, I don't want to _give_ you a second chance," I told him, my laughter over. I was suddenly very angry. "You really hurt me, Dustin, and I'm not willing to put myself up for _more_ of that hurt. So if you'd just excuse me…"

"Kevin, please. I-"

"God asswhipe," I hear Annabelle say behind me. "Did you not hear her the first time? She said 'No'."

Annabelle didn't like Dustin, not one bit. Even after we started dating she would tell me that he was just going to break my heart and leave me. I never believed her and we'd get into so many rows over it. When it ended she didn't tell me, 'I told you so', instead choosing to take care of me. That's what true friends did.

"Yea, I heard her," Dustin told her. The feelings of dislike were mutual. "But I want to at least try to change her mind. I think that I deserve that."

Annabelle mimicked my earlier actions. "You don't deserve anything other than a great kick to the balls, but I don't want to ruin these shoes." She took me by the arm. "Now c'mon Kevin. I got you your champagne and I think we're needed elsewhere."

"Kevin, come on-"

I ignored him and sidestepped him. "Good night, Dustin. And I hope it's the last night I ever see you." On that note, I let Annabelle lead me away from my irate ex who apparently didn't want to be my ex anymore.

Annabelle led me over to where Tim, Bob (and his wife, I was pleased to note), my teammates and some of the investors of the team were talking. As soon as I walked up to them their chatter stopped and a loud cheer went up into the air. I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard Tim say, "Kevin! I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it."

I grinned, my talk with Dustin far behind me. "Wouldn't dream of it. Besides, isn't this supposed to be dedicated to me or something?"

They all laughed as if this was _extremely _amusing, and Tim took his hand off of my shoulder. "That's true. Although we usually just make up reasons for all of us to go out and buy new robes --my wife, not me-- and spend a lot of money." He nudged me. "Though in this case, it _is_ a dedication."

My grin grew wider. "Thanks." I felt Annabelle nudge me on my other side, and immediately went on to the introductions. "OK, well. This here is my date, Annabelle. Annabelle, this is everyone."

The silence that followed this very small speech wasn't at all what I was expecting. "So," Elizabeth said after a moment. "You're a lesbian too."

I'm sad to say I started choking on the sip of champagne I had in my mouth. Coughing, I answered with, "Nope, not a lesbian. Completely hetero."

"Glad to hear it!" One man with a death wish said. "We're happy to have you on our side, pretty thing that you are."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Elizabeth answered. Apparently, the man's words only angered her even more, not that I can blame her.

"I meant nothing by it," he told her. "Just that-"

"Daniel," Oliver said, so close behind me that I felt his breath. "Just shut up."

"Why Ollie? Am I suddenly your slave?" I guess Oliver sent him a look, because the next moment he was quiet.

A silence surrounded all of us, and I took another sip from my champagne. I was feeling proud with myself for not having choked on this sip as well when everything in the room was silent. Suddenly I heard a man talk into a microphone, his voice carrying over the entire ballroom.

"Check, Check, is this thing on?"

Behind me, I heard Oliver mutter, "Percy, you idiot."

"Okay! Well, as I'm sure you all know, we're here to celebrate the addition of Miss Kevin Johnson to our Quidditch team. I'm sure that she'll help Puddlemere United on to another Quidditch Cup victory!" There was a loud bout of applause at this, and I couldn't help thinking that I could very well let them down. "Right," he --Percy I guess, since that's the name Oliver had mentioned-- said. "Well, I'm glad you all agree."

Laughs followed, even though it wasn't particularly amusing. "As most of you already know, we've been trying to get Miss Johnson to sign with us for over six months. I'm just happy that she finally agreed to join! I guess she was just waiting for the season to finished." This was news to me. They had wanted to sign with me earlier? Looked like I needed to have a little chat with Bob. "Anyway, I'm just up here, making a fool of myself to tell you guys that we're all very excited for the upcoming year. Puddlemere United will win the Cup again!"

The applause the followed rivaled that of the Quidditch Cup. I could only just clap and act like I was going to do everything they wanted.

Annabelle must have seen my expression, because she poked me in the ribs and said, "Be happy."

"How can I," I responded, "when I know I could quite possibly fail?"

I finished talking to the Minister of Magic and walked over to the edge of the dance floor, a glass of champagne in my hand. I heard many joyous voices and I wondered where Annabelle was. She had come to me a few moments earlier telling me that she was going off to dance and that she would come and find me afterwards, but two songs had started since then and there was no sign of her anywhere.  
  
Sighing, I took a sip of my drink and turned around. I was surprised when I almost collided into a man's chest. "Whoa there," the man said, putting his hands on my shoulders to steady me. It didn't take me more than a second to place him.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry Oliver. I guess I should yell, 'Watch out, blind woman coming!' before I turn a corner. It would save me and the rest of the world a whole lot of trouble." I was in a bad mood, and I tend to say mean or self-depreciating things when I'm upset.  
  
I could practically hear the frown in his voice. "Why do you always put yourself down like that?" He asked me. "You're not this monster you know."  
  
I rolled my eyes. "I know that, you ass. I've come to terms with that a long time ago."  
  
He shook his head. "You're a very complex person, Kevin Johnson, you know that?"  
  
I almost laughed. Me, complex? Yea, right. "I like to think differently," I told him. "Now excuse me Oliver, but I should go find-"  
  
"Your friend Annabelle is off dancing with my friend, Percy," he told me, reading my thoughts. "And if you ask me, she looks pretty comfortable."  
  
I sighed again. Where was an escape route when you needed one? "Um, well," I said, trying to get away. Standing this close to Oliver was making me uncomfortable. "I need to go get some more champagne, so if you'd just…"  
  
"You have a full glass in your hand, Kevin." He laughed at my expression. "If you just want to get away from me why don't you just tell me? It would make this whole thing a lot more comfortable than it is."  
  
I knew that he was giving me a way to walk away from him, but for some reason, I couldn't make my feet move. Instead, I just stared ahead, listening to the sound of people dancing. A comfortable silence came between us.  
  
But it was a little too comfortable, if you ask me, and I started to get antsy again. I tried to think of something to say. "Look, Oliver. About that thing I said when I first met you, I-" He cut me off again.  
  
"Kevin, would you like to dance?"  
  
I knew that a blush had come to my cheeks, although I had no idea why. And the best I could do was say, "Sure."  
  
Oliver nodded, took my hand, and led me out to the dance floor. By that time another song had started and I gave a fleeting thought to Annabelle. But all comprehendible thoughts flew out the window when Oliver put his hand at the small of my back and drew me closer to him. I was forced to put my arms around his shoulders.   
  
Considering how he was so much taller than me, dancing with him was a little more than awkward; he was a full ten inches taller to be exact. But despite my lacking in stature, dancing with Oliver was actually kind of nice. I hadn't had a boyfriend since Dustin, not even a man to dance with. Because let's be honest. Who wants to do much of anything with a blind woman?  
  
But Oliver didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, halfway through the dance he drew me in closer until I was practically smooshed up against his chest. I let out a little sigh and rested my head against his chest; it had been a long time since I was with a man. There seemed to be a good few moments left in the song when we were interrupted.  
  
"Oliver?" I heard a male's voice asked. I presumed it was his friend Percy that Annabelle had been dancing the night away with. His voice seemed familiar but not extremely pronounce. "Katie's in trouble."  
  
Oliver and I had already pulled apart when Percy came up to us, but his hand was still in mine. As soon as Percy said something about Katie he immediately pulled his hand away.   
  
"What's wrong?" He asked hurriedly. "Where is she?"  
  
"She's crying in the girls' loo," he answered. "And she won't come out. Daniel isn't anywhere around her either."  
  
I heard Oliver's angry reply. "Daniel isn't here? He probably said something to upset her. I'll go in and get her-"  
  
"You are not going in the girl's loo," I told him pointedly.   
  
"And why is that?" He asked, still angry.   
  
I stared at him like he was crazy. "Because you're a guy maybe?"  
  
"Is there a point you're trying to make Kevin, or are you just stalling?"  
  
"First of all, no I am not stalling; there is no reason to. Also, yes there is a point I'm trying to make. I'll go into the washroom and get her out."  
  
"I don't think-"  
  
"I honestly don't care what you think. Now," I said, turning towards Percy. "Lead me to the bathroom."  
  
He paused a moment, and I guessed he turned towards Oliver to get his approval. Finally he took my hand and led me to the loo. Annabelle was waiting outside of it. "She still won't come out," she told Percy, or maybe Oliver, I'm not sure. "I've tried reasoning with her, but-"  
  
"Annie," I said, cutting her off. "From all the times I've done this you should know that reasoning doesn't help." I left them on that note and headed into the bathroom; I had a good feeling Oliver was going to ask just what I meant by that.   
  
"Katie?" I called as soon as I got in there. "Are you in here?"  
  
My only response was a sniffle and I immediately knew where she was. I opened up the adjoining stall and sat down on the toilet. To tell you the truth, I didn't really like sitting on public toilets for anybody, not even myself. So what I was doing for Katie was going way over friendliness.   
  
"Katie, what's wrong?" This time instead of a sniff there was a full-blown sob. Oh great, I was sure helping. "Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
"No," she answered, her voice filled with tears. "I just want you to go away."  
  
I couldn't do that; my pride wouldn't allow it. "Sorry, no can-do. Oliver would skin me alive."  
  
"Bring me Oliver," she told me. She sniffed again. "I want to talk to him."  
  
I shook my head even though I knew she couldn't see it. "That also cannot happen."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because Oliver is a man, and this is the girls' loo. And unless Oliver's hiding something, he can't come in here."  
  
I guess she knew I was right because her next words were, "You're a bitch Kevin, you know that?"  
  
I shrugged. I'd heard that too many times for me to count. "Yea. I get that a lot. I tend to walk on all fours and bark."

She let out a watery laugh that quickly turned into another sob. "He just left me here Kevin," she told me and I knew straight away that she was talking about Daniel. "I told him to bring me home because we were fighting, and he just left me."  
  
I wanted to call him a bastard but I didn't know if she would appreciate that, so I asked, "What do you mean? And what were you fighting about?"  
  
"We were fighting about his ex-girlfriend. She came today with someone else and I saw them dancing and kissing. And when I confronted him about it, he just called me superficial and a hypocrite, although I don't know why. So then I told him to take me home, and he agreed, then told me he was going to go get our coats. I waited for ten minutes before I realized that he just left me here and went home with that _bitch_."

Ok, _now_ was the time to call him a bastard. "Jesus Christ," I said. "What a little mother-"

"Oh Kevin," Katie said sadly. "I don't want you to sink to his level. Just don't let it bother you."

"I could say the same thing to you, you know."

She let out a little sigh. "Yea, I suppose you're right." The next thing I heard was the lock to her stall opening and her shoes scraping on the floor. I opened up my stall and suddenly I was brought up into a bone-crushing hug. I knew straight away that it was Katie and I patted her awkwardly on the back. "You're a good person, Kevin."

I smiled at that one. "You'd be surprised Katie."

"I already am."

My grin widened, and I started to lead her towards the door to the washroom. "C'mon. Oliver will be wondering if I kidnapped you and snuck out the window." Ok, so I didn't really know if there was a window, but from what I heard from the movies Annabelle watched it seemed like a good thing to say.

She let out another watery laugh and let me lead her. "Ok. Oliver's like a big brother to me, and I'm sure he's worried about me."

"You'd have no idea," I told her, then opened the door.

"Ya know," Katie slurred, putting an arm around my shoulders. "Men're all shtupid." She leaned over me to get to Oliver, who was on my left side, probably to pinch his cheek or something. "'Cept fer you, Olivar." She hiccupped, and sat back in her seat. "You're the only good'n."

"Uh, thanks Katie. I think."

"Mmhmm. The only good'n," Katie added, as if it was an afterthought. More rustling and I got hit in the head by Katie's elbow. Ouch, dammit. "Hehe, opps, sorry 'bout that Keven." She giggled. "But don' chu think Olivar is the only good guy left 'n tha world?"

Still nursing my cheek, I said, "Sure. Nice, outgoing, probably handsome, most definitely has all his teeth. Yup, he's a good one."

Katie giggled again, and I instantly regretted saying the words. Did I _have_ to be an ass in public, or did I just enjoy making a fool of myself? "Yer funnay Keven."

"Uh, thanks. I'll remember that next time you call me a bitch or something."

Suddenly, Katie started to cry. Big blubbery sobs right next to my hear. Once again: ouch dammit! "I'm so, so, so, so, _so_ sorry Keven!" She wiped her tears on the sleeve of her dress robes. "Can 'ou evar forgiv me?"

"Yes, of course," I said quickly.

But maybe it was a little _too_ quickly, because Katie only cried harder. "'Ou hav to meen it!

I mentally rolled my eyes. "Yes Katie. I forgive you. And I really mean it this time."

She stopped crying immediately. "Okay!" She put her arm back around my shoulders. "Hey. 'ou know wha? We should all go ou'! What'd ya say?"

I blinked. "Uh.. sorry Katie. But I gotta go home and let my dog out."

I felt her shrug against my shoulder. "Ok. What do 'uo say Olivar? Wanna go ou' wit me?"

I heard him shake his head, his hair brushing against the collar of his robes. "Cant. I don't drink, remember?"

This was news to me. Very startling news, actually. Since when do people not drink? I made a mental note to ask Katie about this later.

"Oh, that's righ'. Why didn' ya say tha before?" She shrugged again; it was beginning to be a very bumpy ride. "Ok, so I guss we won' go ou'." She sighed. "I guess we bettah get goin than." I whole-heartedly agreed because it seemed to me as if the bus boys were cleaning up everything.

Then all of a sudden she buried her head into my shoulder and started to cry once again.

"Uh.." I said while awkwardly patting her back. "Katie, what's wrong?"

Her response, "I don' have anywhare to go!" was muffled by my shoulder.

But apparently Oliver heard it, because the next words out of his mouth were an invitation. "Well, that's OK Katie. You can just stay over at my house in the spare room."

I felt Katie start to lift her head to answer -probably to accept, since Oliver was 'like a brother to her'- so I interviened. "No freakin' way. I am not going to let any girl stay over at some guy's house -especially when she's drunk- not matter how platonic their relationship is."

"You're not very trusting," Oliver told me, sounding a mixture of disappointed and defensive.

It was my turn to shrug. "No, not really. And that wasn't supposed to be an attack on you, so you can stop being so defensive."

"Well how was it supposed to be then? And _you_ can stop being so defensive as well."

I rolled my eyes. "First of all, this isn't about me. Secondly, it's just not in my morals to sit around and watch a guy take a girl back to his house unless they're married or at least dating." I paused for him to tell me any differently, but he didn't. "And since I've heard from multiple people that you aren't, that just doesn't seem like it's going to happen."

I expected him to fight me more, but he didn't. "Who have you heard that from?" He asked instead, sounding curious.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh dear Lord. It doesn't matter. Katie's not going to your house and that's final."

"Then where _is_ she going to stay? I'm guessing Daniel took... that girl back to their house, so that leaves her place out of the question. And I don't know anyone else who would-"

"I'll take her to my place. I've got two bedrooms that I don't use, and I've got stuff for her hangover in the morning." If there was one thing I was accustomed to having, it was painkillers.

"Well, you've thought of everything haven't you?" He asked in a slightly sarcastic tone.

Instead of getting offended, I smirked. "Yea, I guess I have."

He sighed, probably at my stupidity. "How is she going to get there? I used a portkey here, as did many people. And I don't think-"

Whatever he didn't think was cut off by me saying, "I can Apparate her over to my house. That's how I got here."

I heard him shake his head again. "Wait, you can _Apparate_? I thought you had to have a clear picture of where you wanted to be in order to Apparate."

"I've had it very well described for me," I answered half-jokingly, half-defensively. "In any case, I'll just Apparate her over to my house."

"Can you carry her?" It seemed to me like Oliver was racking off any excuse he could to stop me from getting her to my house. "You're actually a lot shorter than she is, and I don't think-"

"I'll manage," I said with a glare. I motioned for Oliver to get up out of the booth, and he did, if not slowly. I slid out and looked down. Then it hit me; I hadn't even asked her if she wanted to. In fact, she'd been quiet during my entire conversation with Oliver. "Katie? Do you want to stay over at my house? I know you'd rather go to Oliver's but-"

"I don't really care," she said, and I noted that she didn't slur any of her words. "As long as I get to a bathroom. I'm going to be sick."

I blinked, and lent down a hand for her to pull herself up with. "In that case, we'd better get going," I said, just as Katie stood up with the help of my hands. Then I noted a problem. I was only five foot three. Katie seemed to be around five seven, five eight.

I'm guessing Oliver sensed my newly acquired apprehension, and knew that I was too prideful to admit it, because he said, "Look, I'll hold her up. You just get her to your house."

I silently thanked him. We positioned ourselves, and in an instant we were gone.

"Uh..." Oliver said as soon as we arrived."I think maybe something went wrong. We're in-"

"My bathroom," I finished for him. "She said she was going to be sick. Thus, I take her to a place where most people go when they're going to be sick at home." I turned to Katie. "You just do your buisiness and I'll-"

She didn't need anymore prompting, because the next thing she did was run over to the toilet.

"Uh..." Oliver said again, this time sounding a lot more uncomfortable. "I'm just going to see if… uh..."

"Why don't you go and see if everything's ready for her in my spare bedroom?" I suggested, giving him something to do. "It's the first room down the hall. If there are no clothes for her to sleep in, just go across the hall to my bedroom and get some. They're in the bottom drawer to the left. Just grab anything. I'll stay with Katie."

"Ok," he said, and practically ran out to door. Probably didn't want to see Katie being sick, which was exactly what she did as soon as he was out of the room.

I walked over to her sat on the edge of the bathtub, all the while whispering soothing words to her. That was actually pretty out of character for me, but at least I was helping. Well, I think I was.

After about five minutes, I started to hear barking. Butch! I had totally forgot. "Katie? Do you mind if I go for a minute-"

I got smacked with the hand she was waving me away with.

I followed Oliver's example and scurried on out of the bathroom.

As soon as I was outside of the small room, I heard Butch's loud barking; it was coming from the living room. I walked into it, and Butch's barking was loud enough to wake the dead.

"Butch, heel!" Butch came running towards me straight away and forced his head under my hand. I pet him on the head while I heard Oliver climb down from some high surface. Probably the table.

"That," Oliver said as he stood next to me. Butch was acting much friendlier now that I was there and talking to Oliver. "Is one of the scariest dogs I've ever seen."

I rolled my eyes and smiled. "He's not scary. Just efficient. Besides, I'm sure you scared him more. He's a little baby."

"Right, whatever you say."

My smiled widened. "Don't tell me that you were afraid of the big, bad Golden Retriever. Did you think he was going to rip you to pieces?"

"Actually, yes I did," he responded honestly. I laughed, and so did he after a moment.

But our laughter was short lived, because in the next moment Katie came out of the bathroom. "Is everything OK in here?"

I turned around, still smiling. "Yea, everything's fine. Oliver was just scared of my dog."

"Of _that_?" She asked. "Why, he looks so sweet and innocent!"

"Exactly," I replied.

I'm betting Oliver rolled his eyes. "Right. Whatever you say." He paused. "Well, I have to go. It's late and we have practice tomorrow." He turned to me. "Everything laid out on the bed. I had to take some clothes from your room. Some shorts and a shirt. Hope that's OK."

I shrugged. "It's OK."

"Alright then." He walked over to Katie and gave her a hug. "Hope you feel better and I'll see you tomorrow." Then he walked over to me, and, as if deciding whether or not he should, he gave me a hug. I hugged him back just to be polite, and the hug was soon over. We both backed away. "Thanks Kevin, and I'll see you tomorrow as well."

Then he was walking towards the door, and in a moment he was gone.

"Well…" I said after a moment. "That was random."

"Not really," Katie responded. "He's always like that."

"I see." Then I remember something he said earlier. "Hey, why doesn't he drink?"

I could hear the question in her voice. "Drink? I dunno. He used to, but now he doesn't."

That much I figured. "Okay, thanks."

She shrugged. "No problem." We stood in silence for another couple of minutes before she said, "Well, we do have practice tomorrow. And I don't know about you, but I have a headache."

I smiled. "Your bedroom is the first one in the hall. Everything should be laid out."

"I know, I heard you and Oliver talking."

I nodded my head. "Ok. Well, I guess I'll see you in the morning. I'll wake you up at nine, alright?"

"OK. Good night Kevin. And thanks."

I smiled again. "Don't mention it. See ya in the morning."

"Yup," she answered, and then walked to her room.

I followed suit a few minutes later. And as I started to fall asleep, I couldn't help thinking about everything that had happened that night. Suddenly my life was a little more hectic than it was before. But I guess it was just something that went along with being a famous Quidditch player.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hello! I haven't updated this in.. well, almost a year. Heh, oops. :) Sorry it's taken so long but uh.. well, _so_ many things happened that I just.. well, didn't really want to get into writing a long chapter. The first draft of this chapter was eighteen pages long. I've taken out a lot of the crappy dialog that really didn't need to be in here, and now it's on twelve. Boo-ya, go me. And I'm also sorry that Kevin's character changed... well, a lot in this chapter. : Once again: Heh, oops.

Anyhoo, I hope you liked the Oliver/Kevin interaction in this chapter. I know I made Oliver a little.. different in here, but, well, I wanted to make him a little bit more... _mature_. I don't know if that happened, but I hope I'm at least succeeded a _little_ bit. Probably didn't though. Too bad.

AND THANKS TO WHO REVIEWED! You guys rock man.

And Aus. Where would I be without my little beta?

Hopefully it wont take a year to update. :D

Melissa


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